


Preserving (What’s Mostly Gone)

by HappyStony



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: ??? - Freeform, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Attempted Breakup, Break up sex, M/M, PWP, Porn, Still don’t know what angst is, Workshop sex, but they’re always going to be unhealthy okay??, cheating mentioned, its just who they are I swear, kinda I guess?, maybe with some plot?, mostly Tony, sorry - Freeform, they’re both kind of mean here, ummm - Freeform, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 02:17:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15451206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyStony/pseuds/HappyStony
Summary: “I think we should end it,” Tony says, apparently the only one brave enough to say it. “For good. I love you, you know that, and you love me but this isn’t...I don’t think we were ever meant to be a permanent thing.”Steve’s lip quirks up, chuckling ruefully at the ground. Tony doesn’t see anything amusing.Or:Not break-up sex? It isn’t, I swear.





	Preserving (What’s Mostly Gone)

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo this is literally just a vomit of words mashed together so if you’re looking for something, idk, actually good and coherent then sorry?? But just a random thing I put together that I’m not very proud of but. Just need some practice...a lot of damn practice. I’ve been loosing my spark of motivation :/ 
> 
> Just a snippet I guess of their crazy lives. I guess you can attach this to whatever universe you’d like with a dash of Sharon Carter because why not y’know (and I’m unoriginal whoops) 
> 
> Umm still don’t know what angst is so sorry if it ain’t angsty idk man just randomass porn.

“We’re not _fine_.”

 

Tony’s voice seems to echo and ring throughout the workshop, the words a punch in the gut for both of them. Tony didn’t even mean to say it, but now that it’s out they can’t deny it. It’s been like this for too long, both too busy for each other, both barely holding on to a relationship neither of them are even sure truly exists. It was fun in the very beginning, beautiful even, when everything was light, fun, easy; when they were a team, when their lives mostly revolved around the same space and they had excuses to hang out and just live life—but it isn’t the same anymore. They can both insist that everything’s okay, it’s _fine_ , but they both know that they’re only holding on to threads these days. Tony’s just the first to admit it out loud.

 

Steve closes his mouth, Tony still unsure if he feels bad for interrupting Steve, but he’s done. As much as he loves Steve, they deserve something better, easier to work with.

 

“You’re right,” Steve eventually agrees with a grim expression.

 

Tony waits for more, but it never comes. He throws his hands into the air, and then angrily shakes his gloves off. He throws his goggles onto the ground before tangling his hands into his hair. He breathes in deeply, irrationally angry with Steve’s calm demeanor. It’s not that he’s looking for a fight, honestly he doesn’t want one, but this _hurts_ and it’d be good to see that Steve is at least feeling half of the emotions Tony is. 

 

“So what do you want to do about it?” Tony asks desperately.

 

“What do you want me to say?” Steve says back, his jaw setting. He has his arms crossed, defensive, and Tony hates that his throat begins to act up, closing in on him. Betraying him.

 

“It’s her, isn’t it?”

 

Steve said it was over, that he was done with her for sure, but Tony knows, deep down, that they had an unbreakable bond. They just _did_ , different to what he and Steve have, but still there and undeniably strong. Tony doesn’t like to be the jealous type, he hates seeing it in others, but there’s some justification as to why he’s upset. They’ve both done terrible things to each other, to everyone in all honesty, and they’ve gone through this before, _fuck_ , but they said they were past that and now _this_.

 

“Whatever you’re thinking, never happened,” Steve snaps, a sliver of anger poking through. “But we have been talking, which is _normal_ Tony, we’re friends, and we work together.”

 

Tony sighs, rubbing at his forehead.

 

“What’re we gonna do?”

 

“I don’t know,” Steve says, finally looking exhausted. They don’t comfort each other. They’re already past that. They can’t even get close to each other anymore. They need to rip it off, like a bandaid. Get it over with, quick and easy.

 

“I think we should end it,” Tony says, apparently the only one brave enough to say it. “For good. I love you, you know that, and you love me but this isn’t...I don’t think we were ever meant to be a permanent thing.”

 

Steve’s lip quirks up, chuckling ruefully at the ground. Tony doesn’t see anything amusing.

 

“You really believe that?”

 

“Well you’re not giving me any other choice, Steve. We’ve tried everything. We’ve gone through everything. And I think it’s doing more harm than good.”

 

“Why do we always come back then?” Steve asks, looking irritatingly thoughtful about it. Tony’s careful not to make his blood boil. “You...me...always entwined. You were my first love. In every way possible.”

 

“And I won’t be the last,” Tony says.

 

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Steve replies, meeting Tony’s gaze for the first time. It sends a jolt through Tony’s body, the intensity, the sincerity, in his expression, his voice, his damn aura. “I think you will be the last, Tony. I think, when this is all over and done, when we’re the last two here—it’ll always just be us, everything stripped away. When I die, you _will_ be my last love.”

 

Tony thinks through all the years, all the damn heartbreak, anger, confusion, frustration—all of the bad times, when they hated each other, couldn’t stand to see the others face, and when they were so disgusted, Tony remembers regretting ever touching Steve’s body so intimately. But—but then he thinks of the good times, all of the smiles, the laughs, jokes, shared heartache and compassion. Being able to relate to one another, slowly showing Steve that what they were doing, who they were becoming, was okay, they were okay, what they were doing was fine and didn’t even need to have everyone involved. He thinks of when they first kissed, they first made love—the good times in bed together, sometimes hot and humid, too much to bear, and other times so sweet Tony never felt so loved. Steve telling Tony he loved him for the first time.

 

He doesn’t ever want to forget all that Steve has ever made him feel. Pain, pleasure. He forever wants Steve’s voice, smell, mind, body—forever remembered. Forever with him.

 

But...it’s so easy to forget about what they’re going through now, when they’ve always had so much history. It’s easy to look back at all the good times, all the amazing time they’ve had together. It isn’t the same, unfortunately. Not anymore.

 

“Maybe,” Tony says softly. “Maybe I will be. But that doesn’t say anything for us now. I want this to work, I want us to be fine but I don’t...think that’s plausible.”

 

Steve nods to himself, solemn. Why does he have to look so beautiful? His perfectly styled blond hair, beautiful pale skin, bright intelligent eyes. This is a man he loves, who used to be only his. He’s letting him go.

 

“You’re smart,” Steve says. “I trust you know what you’re saying.”

 

“Don’t do that,” Tony says, rolling his eyes. They’re watering, shit. This is embarrassing. He wipes at them, not even caring that Steve is watching. He’s done worse in front of Steve. “This isn’t—this is us. Show some damn respect.”

 

“You know me. I’m not a quitter. But if this is what you want, what you truly believe—what do you want me to do, Tony? Argue?”

 

“I’m not _quitting_ ,” Tony says sharply. “And yes, I’d like you to at least show a little bit more support. This isn’t one sided. Don’t put all the blame on me. You aren’t even _fighting_ me. You’re letting this happen too.”

 

Tony barely gets a few blinks in before Steve is in front of him, his expression tight. He’s holding back, he’s holding back a lot, and Tony knows that but he needs to see it. And that’s the problem with them, isn’t it? Not only do they bring out the best in each other, but they also have a habit of continuously bringing out the worst.

 

Steve crowds closely, and Tony takes steps back instinctively. He knows he’s going to be trapped against the table and Steve, he knows that Steve is going to trap him in, barricade him, but he wants it. He wants to see Steve show himself.

 

“What I want to do is _remind_ you,” Steve says, barricading him, just as Tony predicted. He’s flushed against Tony, and Tony is reminded why he never lasts in a relationship. It’s because Tony sucks at being a good boyfriend. But they both do. Perhaps that says something about them; positive or negative, Tony isn’t sure. “How well we work together when you don’t make decisions for the both of us.”

 

Tony’s thrown off at that, expecting something else. Maybe something ruder, more calculative, damaging. His instinct is to deny.

 

“I’m not—“

 

“And I hate arguing with you, Tony, because you know what happens? I always pay for it, someway or another. If this—if this is what you want, I’ll listen, I’ll stay away, but it’s to protect myself. Because if I don’t—you’ll always find a way to punish me.”

 

And that’s...that hurts, because it’s not like Tony does it on purpose. Well, most of the time, but it’s not like Steve is always holy, or a victim. Steve is fully capable of taking care of himself, but...even Tony has to admit, Steve has weaknesses, and Tony is undoubtedly one of them. It’s probably why Steve gets so mad at him sometimes.

 

“Stop making me out to be the villain,” Tony says, but it sounds lame. There’s no heat behind it, because what Steve said, it isn’t even a lie.

 

“You’re not.” He’s stern, sure of himself, and the way he says it is like he’s reminding Tony, that Tony should know that he isn’t the villain. He isn’t _a_ villain.

 

Trust Steve to be honest. He’ll always be honest with Tony.

 

“...I love you,” Tony mumbles.

 

Steve softens at that, his voice equally soft when he replies, “I love you too.”

 

“Fuck. I’m a terrible person—“

 

“You’re not,” Steve repeats, and he brings Tony into a hug. Tony just sighs, resting his head against Steve’s neck. He breathes him in, calming himself down.

 

“We’re not perfect,” Steve whispers, and he brings Tony’s head to his lips, giving his hair a kiss. “We’re never going to be perfect. We’re never going to be happy all the time. But we love each other. And I think that’s what matters the most.”

 

“We’re toxic,” Tony says, laughing, but he’s also crying, and Steve’s just holding him and breathing him in and he’s also never felt so calm, upset, happy and exhausted in his life.

 

“We’re unique,” Steve says back, laughing with Tony. “And probably delusional. But we’re good, or I think so for the most part. Right?”

 

Tony sighs, not answering. 

 

“...you still want that break?” Steve asks cautiously, by now rubbing Tony’s back. The genius pulls away, wiping his tears. He gets a good look at Steve, his beautiful lover, and he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what he wants.

 

Steve leans down and kisses Tony’s chapped lips, and he knows that everything isn’t fixed, he knows that they’ll always have problems, and that they’ll probably have a huge fight sometime in the upcoming week, but right now he just wants Steve, like this, in his workshop, willing to deal with Tony and everything else that comes with him.

 

“I don’t like breaks,” Steve says against him, the kiss getting more heated. Tony grabs Steve’s hair, but instead of tugging he messes it up, rubbing back and forth, side to side, content with just feeling Steve in the moment. He’s so obsessed with Steve. It isn’t a good thing.

 

“We need them,” Tony rebukes, and then he’s being lifted onto the table, and he wraps his legs around Steve’s waist. “And anyways, you always wind up in Sharon’s bed during them. Why’re _you_ complaining?” He knows he’s being petty, that it was a low blow, but Steve isn’t letting him go, and if Steve can’t let him go then Tony won’t either, and they’ll end up in this cycle over and over again. It isn’t healthy. It was never healthy.

 

Steve lies him down roughly, ripping off Tony’s shirt. Tony moans, lifting his chest up to Steve’s unrelenting mouth. Obsessed. Always obsessed.

 

“ _I’m_ not the one who _cheated_ ,” Steve grits out, biting harshly at one of Tony’s ribs. Tony gasps, glaring down at Steve.

 

“ _One_ time,” Tony growls. “And I swear we were on a break.”

 

“I said I needed _space_ ,” Steve says, and he’s unbuttoning Tony’s pants, undressing him completely. Right. Steve’s favorite word: space. On that note, one can easily say that Tony’s favorite would be: break. “That doesn’t mean you get to fuck somebody else.”

 

Fuck, they’ve gone over this before, so many times. They’ve talked about all of this before, and it always ends with no onewinning.

 

“This is why we should stop,” Tony says, hopefully now getting through Steve, but Steve’s kissing his naked thighs, spreading them, distracting Tony. “W-we should end this. F-for good.”

 

Steve hums, rubbing his callous hands along Tony’s legs, massaging him. His kisses become softer along his thighs, licking, nipping. He ignores Tony’s cock, lifting his head to bite at Tony’s hipbone. He starts to dig his hands along Tony’s flanks, and unexpectedly Tony grows hot, his skin prickling with heat, arms raised above his head as Steve starts to caress him. When was the last time they had sex? It feels like it’s been forever, but most likely two or three months. Too long, in Tony’s opinion. He remembers when they first got together, how desperate they were all the time. They couldn’t control themselves.

 

“I can’t,” Steve eventually mutters, leaning a trail of wet kisses all over his body, smelling him, marking him with hickeys. “Why is it always so easy for you to leave me?”

 

“Me, villain, not true,” Tony gasps out, Steve licking his own palm and finally grasping Tony. His grip is too light, barely there, but he’s going down slowly, deliberately, and then he’s finally squeezing as he comes back up, milking as much pre-come as he can. Tony shudders, wondering how they got here so quickly. Steve always thinks sex fixes everything. It’s probably why they used to do it so much. Now there just isn’t worth anything to fix. Steve has to know that.

 

Break up sex. Is this breakup sex? Usually it’s easier to tell, explicitly known between both parties that it’s the last time, but is this what Steve is doing?

 

“Is this break up s-sex?” Tony asks, his eyes shut closed as he accidentally thrusts into Steve’s slick hand. Tony can’t see, but he can feel that Steve is rolling his eyes at him.

 

“We’re not breaking up.”

 

“T-trapping me i-in a relationship, Rogers?” Tony asks, moaning afterwards when Steve deliciously forces Tony’s hips to stay put, keeping a slow, languid pace as he jerks Tony off.

 

“I’ve never been able to shut you up,” Steve mumbles, clearly frustrated. It’s true. It’s been years and Tony’s never been quiet for more than two minutes. Even then that‘s a stretch (one minute and forty two seconds, to be exact. Steve swears it was two. Proudest he’s ever been).

 

“Awe, honey—“ Tony says, but it’s clear he’s making fun of Steve, and then he cuts off when he feels a warm, moist heat enclose around his dripping wet head, and he opens his eyes to see Steve blowing him, continuing with that slow, torturous pace with his hand. “Ch-cheater.”

 

Steve doesn’t reply, obviously focusing on giving as much pleasure as he can. He’s too good at this, and it shouldn’t even be a surprise. Steve was quick to learn with Tony, with everything, never once terrible. He was always such a show off, too. Not so much anymore, but he would always use his new tricks on Tony, eager for praise. How innocent it used to be in the beginning. Tony never realized how much he actually enjoyed it.

 

He’s brought back when Steve gives a light suck, half way down his cock. Tony tries his best to thrust, to move, but Steve’s hand still has him pinned so all he can do is squirm and make noises. Steve abruptly pulls off, letting go of Tony entirely. Tony sits up, watching as Steve takes his shirt off, unbuckling his pants. They’re both flushed, and Tony wonders if Steve’s heart is racing as fast as his. There’ve been times when the sex they had was mediocre, barely getting them to breath a little faster than usual. Sometimes they just got off for no reason, not much touching, caressing, love. Tony never particularly enjoyed those times, and he guesses neither Steve.

 

“You’ve got any lube?” Tony asks, but he doesn’t even wait for Steve to answer, hopping off the table and looking through his drawers. He finds a tube, barely anything in there, but it’s better than nothing. He walks back to Steve, who’s already naked and holding a condom.

 

Tony’s heart gives two hard beats, pulling hard at his chest, and then he chuckles, shaking his head.

 

“I knew you were lying.”

 

It’s not like Steve to lie, but to do it so adamantly, at his face? Still hurts. He probably is fucking Sharon, and he just isn’t man enough to admit it.

 

“I’m not sleeping with anybody else,” Steve says, pulling Tony to him. “This is to prove a point. I’m not doing this raw if you want to break up. Is this what you want, Tony? A quick fuck and goodbye, like some slut?”

 

Tony pushes at him, but Steve doesn’t let go. They’re both hard and probably looking ridiculous like this, naked and arguing about a damn condom. A part of him wishes that Steve was cheating. It would make this a lot easier.

 

“I thought you liked it when I acted like a slut. You always loved it before,” Tony says harshly, and Steve finally lets go of him, grinding his teeth.

 

“Tony,” he says, frustration clear in his voice.

 

“Just do what you want,” Tony says, hopping back onto the table. He’s flagging now, and he isn’t even sure if he’s in the mood anymore. Steve seems to hesitate as well, before discarding the damn thing and walking towards Tony.

 

“Fine,” Steve mumbles. He settles between Tony’s legs, staring at him. Tony rolls his eyes, leaning back onto his hands. Steve leans to kiss him, and Tony turns his head just to be a jackass.

 

Steve kisses his cheek anyway. Twice. Tony can’t believe it’s enough to make his cheeks burn.

 

“Don’t make me mad,” Steve says sweetly against his skin. He noses along, stopping where Tony’s hair begins at the side of his head. Tony leans further back, and then turns his head the other way.

 

“Go away Steve,” he mumbles. He knows Steve won’t, and Steve knows he knows. It’s a stupid game, only there to rile Steve up. Tony always has to push boundaries, lest he grows bored and searches for something else more entertaining. It’s cruel, they both know it, and sometimes Tony can’t help but think of Steve as some masochist.

 

“So incompetent,” Steve says, sighing. Tony’s eyes widen when Steve actually pulls away, bending down to get his shirt.

 

Tony groans, grabbing Steve and pulling him into a kiss. Steve doesn’t protest at all, eagerly reciprocating. Tony forgot where he put the lube, but apparently Steve found it and squeezed some into his hand because the moment he grabs Tony’s dick he’s slick, jerking Tony back to full hardness, his right hand going lower, playing with his balls. Tony spreads his legs as far as he can, setting both feet on either side of him, open for Steve. He moans, anticipation alone enough to send another jolt of pleasure through his body. He wants Steve so bad, he wants Steve inside him, touching him, feeling him.

 

Steve smiles into the kiss, his right hand leaving Tony’s balls and going further down, before sliding across Tony’s hole. Tony moans loudly, pulling away to say, “Don’t tease. Just get on with it.”

 

Tony vaguely hears Steve playing with the lube, before his fingers a pressed against him, and he’s forcing a finger in. Tony relaxes, letting Steve kiss him, focusing on the finger moving inside him, wet and just the right amount of pressure. Not too long after Steve adds a second wet finger, slowly rocking the digits in and out. He caresses his prostate, and Tony still can’t believe that it doesn’t take long for Steve to find his prostate anymore. It only usually takes a few seconds, before Steve is driving him wild with stimulation.

 

Tony groans, leaning back onto his elbows instead. Steve shifts, adding a third finger, going down in between Tony’s legs. He bites at Tony’s taut thigh, spreading his three fingers. Tony throws his head back, gasping, noises being forced out of him. Steve can do so easily, his strength such a blessing for this part of the relationship. Tony can also call it a curse, but it’d be a lie. He never once hated having Steve so strong, capable of even killing Tony on accident.

 

“Fuck me,” Tony hisses, his body twitching where Steve just left a hickey. Steve pulls away, Tony lying down fully. When he’s back, Tony holds his breath, waiting for the intrusion.

 

Steve always starts slow, but luckily he doesn’t stop, either. He keeps a steady pace until he’s buried deep, circling, grinding, before pulling out and properly fucking him. Tony’s toes curl, sighing contently when the familiar stretch comes. Steve is so large, such a good size for Tony.

 

Steve groans, a sound coming deep within his chest, before he bottoms out, stilling, letting Tony get used to the feeling.

 

“Been awhile, huh?” Tony asks lazily, his tongue heavy in his mouth. Steve grunts in reply, pulling back barely by an inch before slowly rocking back in. Tony’s mouth stays open, occasionally letting small, “ah’s” slip out. “Fuck.”

 

“Getting there,” Steve says, huffing, before pulling out, leaving the tip in, his hole almost grasping the thing, forcing it to stay. Steve hisses, and then he lifts Tony’s leg, and when he thrusts in he goes down with it, bringing Tony’s knee to his chin. Tony’s completely spread open now, in Steve’s control.

 

Steve kisses the side of his jaw before going to town, slamming into Tony hard. Tony loves it like this, each thrust leaving such pleasure, reminding Tony where he is, what’s happening. Steve is taking him, right here in his workshop, forcing Tony to realize that this is what he’ll be missing if they’re done. The drag of Steve’s cock from within Tony, the veiny, throbbing organ desperate for release, of which Tony can only give. It must be a delight for Steve, to squeeze inside him, feeling the insides of Tony’s body, the warmth, the intimacy, being able to feel everything—every little twitch, and hear the slightest moan. It’s probably why he likes fucking Tony so much; such an ego booster, for sure.

 

“Y-yes,” Tony says breathily, his moans coming out needier. “Fuck, fuck. Ngh. Faster, harder, Steve, please.”

 

Steve does so, grabbing Tony’s other leg, forcing it towards Tony’s head, fucking him harshly. He’s hitting Tony’s prostate dead on, the feeling too much. This always happens, and it’s good that Tony has built up stamina, but even the most experienced person wouldn’t be able to last long like this either. It just feels so good, everything pleasurable, everything leaving sensations of tingles and heat.

 

“I love you,” Steve says, thrusting hard. “I love you. Don’t fucking leave me, Tony.”

 

“I’m gonna come,” Tony says, his voice high. “Fuck Steve—fuck, I’m gonna—ngh—“

 

Steve grabs him, stroking three times before an orgasm is being ripped out of Tony, landing all over his chest and Steve’s hand. He tightens around Steve, and Steve recently thrusts into the tight heat, grunting with each dive in. It almost hurts, clenching tightly onto Steve like that, but it also makes him feel more full, and it leaves such a sore, which could possibly be Tony’s favorite part afterwards; the reminder of it all. Everything will be later today, for days on end. Bruises, hickey’s, his sore ass. He never regrets it, even when he’s complaining, or even hating the marks Steve has left on him.

 

Steve stutters, coming inside Tony. He rides it out, leaving a long, satisfied groan. Tony wonders for split second how he’s like with Sharon, how satisfied he leaves her, how satisfied she leaves him, before deciding that it’s none of his business. Tony has fucked other people too. Steve mostly keeps to himself with that knowledge, it’s only fair Tony does so as well.

 

“Thanks,” Tony says, relieved when Steve finally lets go of his legs, the limbs falling down tiredly after being stretched for so long. “Fuck. It really has been awhile.”

 

“Shut up,” Steve says lightly, standing next to Tony, his back facing the man. Tony stares at him, letting his eyes wander, before sitting up, rubbing at Steve’s bicep. He then caresses his arm, part of his neck and back, then ducking his head onto Steve’s shoulder, not before giving it a light kiss, however.

 

“It’s fine,” Tony whispers, feeling along Steve’s chest comfortingly. “It’s fine. Nothing gets fixed right away. Nothing ever does. You know that.”

 

“But you think we never will. That’s the problem, Tony.”

 

Tony sighs, staring off into space. He continues feeling Steve lazily, then wraps his arms around him, giving the man an interesting side hug, his head snuggling into Steve’s neck.

 

“Breaks,” Tony eventually mumbles. “We need breaks.”

 

“Space,” Steve says. “You always get jealous when I go back to Sharon anyway. Just say we need space, Tony. Even just a few days apart. It doesn’t always have to be a whole damn month.”

 

Tony hums, closing his eyes. “I don’t get jealous.”

 

Steve snorts, but he doesn’t answer. Maybe that’s a good thing.

 

“I do believe in us,” Tony says softly, almost asleep on Steve’s shoulder. “I swear. I just...when looking at all the variables, past data. The conclusion is obvious, but it also says that we would never have been able to stand each other for more than a few months, and we’re way past that so...humans change. We aren’t constants, I guess is where I’m getting at. So. So the conclusion is flawed, merely a hypothesis, which is nothing to go by if I don’t have any way to test it. We’d just...have to see how long this lasts. Ride it out for a few more years...see what life throws at us.”

 

Steve rests his head on top of Tony’s, both breathing softly.

 

“Whatever you say Tony...as long as I’ve got you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Whelp there you go. Just a few thousand words of crap I put together. If someone managed to enjoy this then great. Glad you liked this random thing I made (seriously thanks for reading if you made it this far).
> 
> Angst? I don’t know what that is. I don’t think I ever will. *sigh*


End file.
